Who Says You Can't Go Home
by djoneal
Summary: I should not have come back. I'd thought, after all these years, that I could come here and finally lay my ghosts to rest. How could I have known they would only come back to life? She wasn't supposed to be here….


**AN: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight and all its characters. I just like to take them out and play.**

_I should not have come back. I'd thought, after all these years, that I could come here and finally lay my ghosts to rest. How could I have known they would only come back to life? She wasn't supposed to be here…._

Eight years. Had it really been eight years since I had packed my car and driven out of this town? I hadn't been back even once, and yet it was if I had never left. Nothing had changed. The grocery store, the mini mart, the diner….even the cars parked on the streets looked the same. It was like stepping back into a memory. I almost expected to turn and see her pushing through the door of the sporting goods store, seventeen again and laughing. I wondered briefly if Newton was still working there. Perhaps he ran the place now.

I looked around and sighed, struck by the painful familiarity of it all. Somehow I had hoped that it would be different, feel different. That the air would not be as crisp and clear as I remembered. The trees would not be as green, nor the scent of pine as strong and sweet. That the atmosphere would not still be redolent with the residuum of _her_.

_ Why couldn't I forget?_

I sat upon a bench and let the slow-moving, small-town traffic pass me by. It was a quiet, insignificant speck on the map, this place, but it was here that I had learned to be a man. It was here that I had found the will and the strength to remake myself into someone proud and respectable rather than the brawling degenerate that my turbulent youth had molded me into, and it was all because of her. Everything I was, everything I'd done, was because of her. I'd just never told her.

It was here that I had once held a butterfly, beautiful and delicate. I had let her go and she had thrived.

Eight years ago I had turned my back on my closest friend and the girl who'd never known she owned my heart. It was the hardest thing I'd ever done, which was saying a lot considering the first fourteen years of my life, and it was the one thing I could not bring myself to regret. How could I, when cutting my ties to her had left her free to fly? And God, had she soared. No, letting her go was definitely the best thing I had ever done for her. Now if only she would let go of me…

Thirteen years ago I'd been taken in by the Cullens, a gangly fourteen-year-old orphan with two black eyes, a broken nose, and a rap sheet. I'd been bounced around from foster home to foster home since I'd lost my parents to a car accident at seven, and I'd learned the hard way that playing by the rules gets you nothing but hunger and broken bones. I was a foul-mouthed delinquent into vandalism, petty theft, and street fighting when the Cullens took me in. By sixteen they still hadn't worked much of the angry hardass out of me, although I stayed roughly within the constraints of the law out of respect for the first family who'd ever treated me decently since the death of my parents. That wasn't to say I stayed entirely clean, I was just a lot more subtle about it.

All that changed when Bella Swan stumbled her way into my life. Literally. It might seem odd that I could have lived in a town this size for two years without knowing her, but a kid like me tended to go out of his way to avoid the Police Chief's daughter. I'd known of her, of course—we went to the same school with the same few kids, ate at the same restaurants, even lived within a walking distance of each other. My adoptive father was her doctor. I knew that she had brown hair and big brown eyes, that Alice Brandon was her best friend, and that she spent more time at the library than at the mall. But I'd never talked to her.

My junior year I was put into advanced biology—not because I tried hard in school but because somehow I did well without even trying at all. I skipped more classes than I attended and still managed to set the curve on the tests. At the time I found this as a source of amusement, a way of screwing over the other kids in my class. It didn't occur to me that with a little effort I could actually make something of myself. I was too busy picking fights, lifting wallets, and smoking cigarettes to care.

I walked into class the second day of school (I hadn't bothered to show up the first day). Mr. Banner gave me the typical I-know-you're-a-trouble-maker-and-I-don't-want-you-in-my-class-but-I-have-to-put-up-with-you glare and directed me to my table. It was empty and I hoped that he'd left it that way on purpose, not wanting to pair anyone up with the town delinquent and outcast. I was playing with the Bunsen burner, trying to see how high I could get the flame, when the bell rang and then someone knocked hard into me from behind, nearly singeing my face on the fire. I swore profusely, spinning around with fists ready to swing.

"OhmyGod! I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

If it was anyone else I would have cut her down quickly with a few choice remarks. (Yes, I was dick even to the girls and it still got me laid because there were so many girls out there who wanted to be treated that way. At the time it made me feel cocky and superior to them. Looking back now I only feel disgust with myself and pity for them for needing the degradation.) But I found myself looking into a pair of wide chocolate eyes, warm with concern and self-censure, and I couldn't bring myself to say the words. Instead I just jerked a shoulder and muttered, "No harm, no foul," before turning away again to snap off the flame.

I could see from the corner of my eye the way she blushed and ducked her head, hiding behind her hair as she slid onto the stool next to me. It intrigued me. I wasn't sure if she was just afraid of me—it wasn't that far-fetched, most of the kids in school were—or if she was just embarrassed by the way she'd run into me. I'd heard enough about her to know she had a habit of falling and walking into inanimate objects. Even if it seemed she was liked by everyone who knew her, her clumsiness was a running joke in the school.

I edged a little closer to her, curious to see if she would edge away from me. She didn't move so much as a hair, and I had to wonder if she was just frozen in fear or if she had even noticed my movement at all. I did it again, letting my chair scrape the floor a little this time. She looked over at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to announce my reason for grabbing her attention. Shit, I hadn't been prepared for that response. Fear, revulsion, even shy embarrassment yes. Calm inquiry, no.

"Um, I'm Edward."

"Yes, I know. Everyone knows who you are."

I smirked derisively. "Of course they do. The town deviant."

She rolled her eyes at me. "Everyone in this town knows who everyone else is. Don't be so stuck on yourself."

I gaped at her. No one talked to me that way except my adoptive sister and the crew I ran with—James, Riley and Felix. Hell, even of them James was usually the only one with the balls to stand up to me. All of the "good kids" in this school gave me uneasy stares and a wide berth, but this quiet, pint-sized girl seemed to have no qualms about putting me in my place. It both amused and fascinated me.

"So what the fuck is a sophomore doing in advanced biology anyway?"

She shrugged and blushed, staring at the table as she mumbled, "I tested out of Chemistry."

Was she embarrassed by her intelligence? "What's the matter? Afraid that makes you a nerd?"

She glared at me. "It makes people treat me differently. Like I'm above them or something, and I'm not."

I had no response to that. I knew what it was like to be treated differently too, like I was beneath them. For the first time I realized I might actually have something in common with the Chief's daughter.

I'd like to say that one meeting with Bella made an immediate and dramatic change in me. It didn't. I still smoked behind the buildings, still snuck into the movie theater even though I had the cash to pay, still hot-wired cars for the sole purpose of joy riding in them, and I still beat the shit out of any punk who had the nerve to try to take me on.

But I stopped skipping so much school, wanting to spend that time in class with Bella and to watch for her in the hallways and lunchroom. I'd learned she wasn't so much clumsy as she was inattentive. She got too lost in her thoughts or her books to pay attention to her surroundings. I couldn't count the times she'd walked into a wall because she had her nose stuck in a book even as she walked.

It also didn't escape my notice the way some of the catty "popular" girls, jealous of her natural beauty, went out of their way to trip her up or the way the jocks would "accidentally" bump into her as they tried to cop a feel. I'd caught Jessica Stanley in the hallway one time taking a sidelong glance at Bella's approach and then casually sticking her foot out behind her just as she passed. Bella had sprawled across the floor, her books flying from her hands, and then proceeded to apologize to Jessica for the incident. I'd helped her pick up her things, and one hard look at Jessica had sent her running off to class. She never tried that shit again. Then there was the time Newton had placed himself directly in her path and then slyly gotten a handful of her breast when he so gallantly saved her from falling. I'd caught up with him in the locker rooms before gym and given him a busted lip and a black eye. He knew to expect worse than that if he ratted me out to the teachers.

At some point I had taken it upon myself to be Bella's self-appointed guardian—watching from a distance but never too far. She was too pure-hearted to see the calculated artifice of the people she considered friends, but I wasn't about to see her taken advantage of or let her sweet innocence be spoiled. It was kind of ironic, really. If anyone's influence was likely to corrupt her it was mine. It didn't matter, though. I wasn't about to expose her to that side of my life.

Eventually I stopped skipping school altogether just so I could be around her. My crew grew irritated with me and I saw less and less of them, but I barely even noticed in my distraction of watching over Bella. I must have roughed up half the football team that year before the teenage boys of Forks High learned to leave her well enough alone. It started rumors and whisperings and I always wondered how they never reached Bella's ears but she never seemed aware of my silent protection. She always greeted me with the same warm smile. Even when we bumped into each other outside of school she would smile and stop to talk to me before her father dragged her away from me. Outside of my adoptive family she was the only one who treated me like a person rather than a hoodlum.

It got so that I began to crave her laughter. Her smile was like an addiction—I needed it like I needed air. By the end of my junior year I was spending as much time with her as she would allow, which was surprisingly a lot. I drove her home from school every day. So many afternoons we spent at her kitchen table working on our biology projects or studying together (all right, so I was studying her more than the material). Charlie was never too thrilled about having me there, but Bella seemed to have the same sort of magic pull over him as she did with every other male she came into contact with. Plus, he probably figured that as long as I was at the Chief's house I wasn't out on the streets raising hell.

I never made any romantic passes at her or allowed my feelings for her to show. First of all it was clear that I had fallen into the "friend" category with Bella. But more importantly I didn't want to soil her. She was like a clean white sheet that I was afraid to touch with my dirty hands. She was an angel, so far above me, but I was happy just to bask in her glow. She was everything good in life, so warm, compassionate, and selfless. I was totally in love with her and even though I knew I would never be worthy of her I wanted to be a better man, if only to prove that the time she spent with me wasn't wasted.

By the time I entered my senior year I had cut all ties with James's crew, which was well enough since they had gotten into drugs and dealing and even in my wildest days I would never have crossed that line. I no longer skipped classes and I turned in my homework assignments. My carelessly decent grades from before soared. I stopped stealing booze from the ridiculously low surveillance convenience store and gave up fighting for money. The only ones that felt the impact of my fists were the stupid fuckers who tried to mess with Bella. I even tried to clean up my language a bit—somewhat unsuccessfully. Some habits are hard to break. The only thing I didn't give up were my cigarettes because they were the only thing that could calm me when the tension of wanting Bella became too much.

People were still nervous and wary around me, but much less condescending and judgmental. It was all Bella's doing. Her graciousness spilled over onto me. I was accepted because _she_ accepted me.

From that point on we were together all the time. I walked her to her classes. After school we hung out at the diner or at her house, often with Alice and her boyfriend Jasper. When her truck broke down, which was often, I was the one she called for a ride. I would have gladly driven her all the time, but once she'd gotten her license she'd insisted on driving herself. She picked up a job at Newton's Sporting Goods on the weekends, and I would usually wait on the bench outside for her shift to end before taking her for ice cream or to the movies (this time I actually bought tickets).

I had a "heart-to-heart" with Mike Newton just before her first shift at the store. He never laid a hand on her in the two years that she worked there.

It went on like that for nearly two years, and even though it was pure hell to be with her and not be able to hold or touch her as more than just a friend it was probably the best two years of my life simply because she was in them. There were times I let myself hope that she returned my feelings even in just a small way. Times when she came off work and smiled at me like I had just brightened her whole day or times when she would throw her arms around me and hold onto me just a little longer and a little tighter than what a casual hug between friends should be.

I was basically her boyfriend in every regard but that one. We spent all our free time together, I never let her pay when I took her out, we talked on the phone almost every night, I even escorted her to most of the high school dances. But I knew it was just a fantasy on my end. I couldn't count the number of times she had referred to me as her best friend, and truthfully I would never have allowed it to be more than that even if she'd wanted it. I wasn't good enough for her.

I still remember the first time she'd called me her Heathcliff. I'd gotten a thrill out of it then, believing that she must have felt something for me if she called me after the hero from her favorite book. I'd smuggled a copy of it out of the library the very next day, wanting both the knowledge of the tale that so captivated her heart and mind and also to become familiar with this character she equated me to. It was with some horror that I read the character of Heathcliff. He seemed an unforgivingly cruel man with an obsession with revenge and unhealthy love for Catherine. It was a love that had ultimately destroyed both her and himself. Was this how she saw me? Was she on some level aware of my feelings for her and their potential to disrupt her life? I never once voiced my knowledge of the book or my objections to the nickname, but I cringed inwardly every time she used it.

The only time we'd ever really argued was after my graduation. She'd been beyond pissed upon discovering that I had not applied to any colleges. I'd told her that I didn't need a college education to become a ring fighter, which had only upset her even further. The truth was I was contemplating going on to medical school, but I wanted to take a year off so that I could still be close enough to watch over Bella as she finished her senior year. There were too many ass-hats in that town just waiting for me to step out of the picture so they could stake their claim on Bella. I couldn't tell that to Bella, though. She wouldn't understand because she couldn't see duplicity in other people. She only saw the good and it would be far too easy for someone to use that to their advantage. It was the only time I'd ever heard her scream at someone.

It was also that summer that Bella had a boyfriend—the only time in the three years of our friendship that she'd dated. I'd never known a jealousy or a hatred as strong as I did during those two months. Jacob Black, one of the kids from the Rez and the son of one of Charlie's best friends. I'd wanted to string the kid up by his stupidly long hair and use his balls for batting practice. She let him hold her and kiss her and buy her gifts. He got to know what it was like to touch his mouth to those sinfully perfect lips and feel her respond. If I were granted just one murder to get away with that would have been it. His only saving grace was that he seemed to treat her with respect and, as far as I knew, never pushed her for anything sexually. She never told me why they broke up other than "they were just better off as friends" and I never really asked. I was just glad when it was over and I could have her back to myself again.

That year seemed to fly by. If I'd known how it would end I would have tried to slow it down and squeeze every ounce of joy out it that I could. I would never have believed I might never see her again, but perhaps it was better that it had ended the way it had. I absentmindedly fingered the article in my hands. She would not have risen to her current glory if I had continued to weigh her down.

Bella's senior prom. It was the night I remembered with the most clarity, the most pleasure and the most pain. It was also my last memory of Bella.

The night started out like every other dance I had escorted her to. Charlie let me into the house with little more than a grunt and a nod. He had come to tolerate my presence over the years but never much warmed up to me. I'm sure in his eyes I was still the shady criminal trying to corrupt his little girl. He called up to Bella to let her know I was there, then turned to give me one of his notorious Interrogation Room Glares.

"You take care of my girl tonight, Cullen."

"I will, Chief Swan. Nothing will happen to Bella under my watch."

He grunted again. "I know how close you watch my daughter, boy. You just make sure you watch yourself too."

"Sir, I wouldn't—I'd never…"

I wasn't really sure how I intended to finish that statement, but it didn't matter as Bella chose that moment to walk down the stairs and I think I must have swallowed my tongue in reaction. She was wearing some red satiny thing that draped down her body straight to the floor with a slit that rose all the way up to the top of her thigh. It was held up by two thin straps that crossed at her back. Other than that her back was bare all the way down to the top of her perfectly shaped ass. Her sexy little back dimples were winking at me. Charlie may have grumbled something like "See that you don't" but I was much too busy staring at Bella for it to register. I'd seen her in a bikini before but I'd never seen her in anything like this. It was sophisticated and sexy and feminine and….entirely too revealing. It wouldn't be safe to leave her side even for a minute that night.

She looked up at me with a grin. "Do you like it? Alice helped me pick it out."

"I—it—you're beautiful."

I'd never stuttered in my life before, but that made twice in one night. Bella's smile widened and my heart expanded with it.

"Is that for me?"

I looked down at the corsage in my hands. "Oh, yeah."

I slipped it onto her wrist and couldn't resist trailing my fingers across the soft skin on the underside. I thought I heard her inhale sharply but when I looked at her she was still wearing that same sweet smile and I realized it was my own wishful thinking.

The dance went off pretty much as expected. We doubled with Alice and Jasper and I made sure to keep Bella within my line of sight throughout the night. She didn't even seem aware of all the eyes that followed her around the ballroom of the Seattle Four Seasons but I heard more than enough whisperings and lewd comments from the all the horny teenage boys there. Several of them were crude enough to send me into a red hazy of fury and I would have beaten the thoughts out of their heads if I had been willing to risk leaving Bella's side long enough, but I wasn't. And I also knew she wouldn't have appreciated the scene either.

As the night went on I noticed Bella's behavior growing a little strange—a little more wild and silly—but I just figured she was letting loose and enjoying one of her last high school experiences. To be honest I didn't even want to question the reason for her behavior. She was acting much more flirty and affectionate with me than usual, pressing against me when we danced, casual caresses and lingering kisses on the cheek, even the occasional innuendo. I was getting high off the attention and it took all my strength to resist the invitation that I knew she did not really mean.

It didn't occur to me that my innocent Bella was having her best friend spike her punch. It wasn't until late in the evening, when the dance was almost over, that I began to suspect something was off. We were dancing the last slow song. Bella had her arms around my neck, her body draped over mine with her head on my shoulder and her warm breath on my neck. My hands were low on her back, relishing the feel of the smooth skin there, and I tried to strike up a menial conversation in a desperate attempt to distract myself and prevent the semi hard-on growing in my pants that she would be bound to notice.

"You're father told me you got accepted into UCLA. Congratulations. I know that's where you always wanted to go. I'm really proud of you, Bella."

"I'm not going there," Bella mumbled.

I stopped dancing and looked down at her face. Her eyes were hooded, as if her eyelids were too heavy to open all the way, but her expression was serious.

"Why not?"

She shrugged and looked away. "I decided to go to the University of Washington instead. I don't want to be so far away from…my friends."

"Bella, that's ridiculous! The University of Washington doesn't offer the same programs—"

Her eyes flashed to mine and cut me off. "Aren't you happy I won't be so far away?"

"Of course I'd love for you to stay close, but not at the cost of your education, your career, your dreams."

"There's only one dream I've been having lately," she whispered, her eyes still on mine, "and you're the only one who can help with that."

Before I knew her intentions she'd leaned up and pressed her lips to mine. I froze in shock for a moment before I grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her away.

"Bella, what are you doing?"

She pouted. I'd never seen her pout before. "Isn't it obvious?"

"But why? You've never—we've never—"

She cut off my stammering, pressing up against me again and putting her lips next to my ear. "I want you, Edward. I want you to be my first."

I closed my eyes against the bittersweet agony of her words. All the years I'd wanted to be with Bella, to show her how much I loved her, and now it seemed she wanted me too. But I didn't want to be her first. I wanted to be her only. Could I have her once and let her go? No way in hell, but nor could I find the strength to deny her what she wanted. With her body rubbing against mine and her hands moving over me it was hard to remember that I had no right to touch her.

She pressed her mouth to mine again, her tongue slipping out to slide along my lower lip, and my will power crumbled. I groaned into her mouth and my lips opened to plunder hers. Three years of pent up frustration burst out of me as our tongues slid against each other and she hung tightly onto me with her hands clutching the back of my suit jacket. My own hands slid up and down the smooth expanse of her back, stopping to cup her ass and lift her up against me. Bella moaned and hooked her leg around mine to increase the contact. Even through all the layers of our clothing I could feel the warmth of her as she pushed against my erection. My eyes rolled back in my head and I almost embarrassed myself right there on the dance floor. We were both panting hard when Bella pulled away to whisper in my ear.

"Let's go get a room. I want you, Edward, and you can't deny you want me to."

I hesitated, some small semblance of common sense breaking through the haze of lust that had come over my brain. I couldn't take her virginity in some meaningless hotel room on the overly clichéd prom night. It was too tawdry, too common for my Bella.

"Bella, I can't, not like this. You deserve so much better—"

She jerked out of my arms, her face the picture of indignant rage. "No, Edward. I'm tired of you treating me like some prefect angel, setting me up on some pedestal to be admired but not to be touched. Would a perfect angel have spent the whole night slipping vodka into her punch? Would a perfect angel have any of this?"

She yanked her little handbag open and thrust it at me and I paled at its contents. Next to her tube of lip gloss and a whole handful of condoms was a small plastic bag of white powder. I hastily snatched it from her hands and snapped it shut before anyone else could see.

"Bella, where did you get this?"

"It doesn't matter where I got it. What matters is that I want you and I'm sick and tired of you treating me like some flawless princess who would be defiled by your touch. Maybe I want to be defiled. I'm every bit as human as you, you know!"

I might have put more credence to her words if she hadn't slurred them a bit and stumbled at the end of her speech. I wanted to believe that she truly did want me, but she was drunk and obviously not in her right state of mind. And all I could think was that I _had_ defiled her. She was giving up UCLA to stay close to me. She had bought drugs and gotten drunk to prove to me that she wasn't perfect. She had become corrupted from my influence, the one thing I had always sworn I would not allow.

"Bella, I think it's time I took you home."

"Home? But—"

I shook my head. "You've been drinking. You'll just regret this in the morning."

"I won't! I only drank so I'd have the courage…"

"I can't take that risk." I cupped her face in my palm. "I made a promise to take care of you and that's what I'm doing. We're going."

The car ride home was excruciatingly long and thick with silence. Bella never even looked at me, but spent the entire time staring listlessly out the window. By the time we made it back to Forks she'd passed out. I slipped the bag of cocaine out of her purse and into my pocket before I picked her up and carried her into the house, laying her gently on her bed. I stood silently staring at her peaceful face, committing it to memory, until Charlie cleared his throat and I reluctantly left.

I spent most of the following day sitting on this very bench trying to figure out what to do about the dark stain my presence had caused in Bella's life. It would have been better for her if she had never met me. Whereas she had inspired me to become a better person I had done nothing but expose her to a darker side of life. If it were not for me she would never have felt the need to seek out drugs or drink to excess. If it were not for me she would still be pursuing her dreams at one of the best universities for cinematography. Removing myself from her life might be the best thing I could ever do for her, but did I have the strength to go through with it?

I'll never know if I could have done it on my own. I was approached by James that very afternoon. He sat down next to me and slung an arm around my shoulder as if it hadn't been almost two years since I'd even spoken to him.

"That girlfriend of yours is one hot number, man. You're a lucky bastard to be tapping that shit."

"Bella's not my girlfriend, I'm not 'tapping that' and if you talk about her like that again you'll be breathing through a tube."

"Hey, hey! Be cool, dude, no disrespect meant. I was giving the girl a compliment. Just appreciating the goods. She looked smoking in that dress last night. I don't know how you can stand not getting any of that."

"I didn't realize you'd managed to snag an invite. High school dances weren't your thing when we were in high school."

"Yeah, well, Victoria invited me—you know, that senior with the big red hair and even bigger tits? I tell you what, there's one easy lay. Plus, the venue was good for my revenue, if you know what I mean. I even did a little business with your girl."

"You sold her that shit? You fucking bastard, I'll—"

"Be a total shame if she got busted for that. Might put a damper on her college plans, you know?"

I paused with my fist already in the air. My eyes narrowed. "She's no longer in possession of it and she never used any. You've got nothing."

He drew an envelope out of his pocket. "Nothing but a few incriminating photos of her buying it."

I paled. "You'd never turn those in. They'd implicate you too."

James laughed. "I'm not even in them. I go through a third party, man. Total deniability."

My pulse accelerated and my hands shook. What had I done? This was all my fault. It was because of me that she bought the drugs and it was because of me that James had kept the evidence. He'd harbored a deep resentment of me ever since I had left the crew.

"What do you want?" I ground out.

"Well, I figure the photos themselves are worth five grand. You can get the money off that doctor daddy of yours. The negatives, however…that'll cost you a little more."

"How much?"

"You, gone. I want you out of Forks all together. This is my turf now and I'm tired of seeing your pretty face around here. You betrayed the gang when you left us for that chick. I figure there's no better justice than forcing you away from her."

I could have laughed at the irony. He could hardly know I'd already been contemplating doing just that. This only cemented my decision.

"How do I know you don't have copies?"

"You don't know. That's my insurance policy. You come back, maybe they surface, maybe they don't. Bella's safe as long as you stay away, and you can be sure she'll stay that way since I know you can't help yourself from keeping tabs on her and I sure as hell don't want your ass back here."

I made the deal with James and left Forks three days later. I never contacted Bella in that time to tell her of my plans, nor did I answer any of her phone calls. It would be easier for her if she hated me. She would move on faster, go back to the life she should have led.

And she had. James was right, I'd kept tabs. I may have never returned before now but I'd called frequently and my parents had often come out to visit me. While I was attending medical school in Chicago Bella had gone to UCLA and gotten her masters. Now she was a famous screenwriter and director. Her name was listed up there with Stephen Spielberg and Tim Burton. I glanced at the article in my hands. _Bella Swan's romantic suspense takes a new twist with the latest must-see, _Stealing Tomorrow._ Her typical brooding male lead, a dark and troubled soul whose edge of violence is balanced only by his strict code of honor, drives himself to the brink of destruction in his misbegotten need to prove his worth…_

The article went on for two pages to praise the works of Oscar-winning Bella Swan. I had thought that I would find reassurance in knowing that my decision to leave had been the right one. In my absence Bella had achieved her dreams and found the success she deserved. But while on the one hand I was eternally grateful that she had been able to move on and find that success, on the other I was an emotional wreck over my own inability to do the same. Yes, I had become the surgeon I had always secretly wanted to be, but even after all these years my heart longed for Bella. It was like I'd left a piece of myself with her and I'd never be whole again.

It had been my hope that by returning here I'd be able to put my memories into perspective, prove that they were not everything I'd built them up to be over the years, and finally move on. If anything I'd only proved that they were more. Coming here had only served to turn the pain of her absence from a dull, relentless throb into a gaping, festering wound. I couldn't breathe here without breathing in the memory of her, and it was smothering me. I should not have come back.

"Loitering is still a crime around here."

I glanced up at Chief Swan, the first smile breaking across my face since I had arrived.

"It's a public bench. It's good to see you, Chief Swan. How have you been?"

I started to rise and offer my hand, but he waved me back and took a seat beside me.

"About as can be expected. A little older, a little crankier. I hear you've done pretty well for yourself. A surgeon in Chicago."

I looked at him with surprise. I hadn't expected him to know much about me since my departure. In fact, I'd nearly expected him to hate me. He'd actively disliked me years ago, and that was before I up and left without so much as a goodbye or an explanation. I never fooled myself into believing that Bella could have felt half as strongly for me as I did for her, but I was still sure that leaving that way would have hurt her. She had a gentle and sensitive soul.

"I still talk with Carlisle at times," Charlie grunted. "He brags about you quite a bit."

I shifted a little in embarrassment. I hadn't realized he'd been talking much about me, although I suppose I should have. I knew my parents were proud of me. Even with the distance our family had become a lot closer over the past decade—since I had stopped trying to push them away. They never said anything but I knew they believed Bella was the one to thank for that. They were right.

"It's been a long time since I've seen your face around here."

I nodded silently, not trusting myself to speak. Charlie nodded down at the article I'd forgotten was in my hand.

"Still hung up on her, I see."

My mouth dropped open and I gaped at him.

"Yes, I knew you were in love with her. Hell, the whole town knew you were in love with her. The only one oblivious to it was Bella, but then she always found it hard to believe that she could evoke that kind of feeling in another person. Ever since her mother left us. Broke her heart when you left, you know."

I swallowed painfully. "She was better off without me. I figured you would have been pleased."

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, I gave you a hard time of it back then, didn't I? I saw your label—one you worked damn hard to give yourself, by the way—and it's hard for a man, especially an officer of the law, to see his girl run around with someone like that. I was afraid of her getting caught up in that mess. But my girl, she never saw labels, just saw people. Wouldn't listen to me when I told her you were nothing but trouble and to keep her distance. I'm glad I was wrong about you."

I think that was the longest speech I ever heard from Charlie. "You weren't entirely wrong. I was into a lot of messed up shit back then. It was Bella who changed me. She was the best thing to ever happen to me."

Charlie gave me a narrow eyed look. "Trust me, I know what shit you were into, son. I'm not stupid. But I wonder about you. Where I come from someone like that comes into your life, someone who gives you a reason to change, you don't push her away."

My jaw clenched. "Everything I ever did was for her. She gave me back my life; I had to protect hers. My leaving was the best thing I could do for her."

"Aye, I know why you did it. Don't look like that. This is a small town, nothing stays secret for long. I arrested James for dealing a year after you left. Thought it was funny as hell to tell the Police Chief all about how he'd sold drugs to my daughter, then used the evidence to run you out of town. I appreciate what you did, Cullen. I'd hated you that whole year for what you did to my Bella, but I know now you were just trying to protect her. Shame you were so stupid about the way you went about it, though."

"Sir?"

He slapped his hands on his knees and rose from the bench. "I've said all I'm going to say on the subject. The past is the past. We learn from our mistakes and move on. Just know if you ever turn her into that mindless zombie again I'll hang you from your balls and use you as a training dummy. Worst scare I ever had in my life." He glanced at his watch. "Gotta get back to the station. See ya around, kid."

He walked away whistling as I stared after him in frustration. What was all that talk about a mindless zombie, and how could I do anything to her anyway? I'd likely never even see her again. My chest seized at the thought, and I angrily crumpled the paper in my hands and threw it into the trash bin. Fuck moving on. It wasn't going to happen. I needed to get the hell out of this town where her ghost couldn't haunt me everywhere I turned. There was just too much of her here. I could see her everywhere, smell her, I could practically hear her.

I froze as I realized I really was seeing and hearing and smelling her. She had come out of the sporting goods store with an older but just as infatuated looking Mike Newton. She was laughing at something he was saying and his hand came out to touch her arm. My blood boiled just as it always did when Newton tried to touch her. Her head turned towards me, as if sensing my eyes on her. Shock and…was that pain?...flickered over her face before her mouth curled into a smile and she came toward me.

It was physically painful to be this close to her again. Her beauty was just as compelling as it had always been, only older now and more refined. Her cheekbones were a little more prominent now, her jawline more defined, and her boyish figure had filled out into a woman's curves. Her eyes were not quite as bright as they once were, but her lips were just the same—full and perfect and tempting.

"So Heathcliff returns."

I cringed at the use of that old nickname.

"It's been a long time, Edward. You look good."

I stood there, silent like a fool. I wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked. I wanted to tell her I was proud of all the success she'd achieved and that I'd seen every move she'd ever produced. I wanted to tell her I loved her and that walking away from her had been the hardest thing I'd ever done. I didn't trust myself not to say that last part and so I kept my mouth shut while she stood there staring at me expectantly. Her head cocked to the side.

"We haven't seen each other in eight years. Don't you have anything to say?"

"I thought you were in LA," I blurted out. Smooth, Cullen. What the hell ever happened to _Hi, how are you?_ Or _It's good to see you_?Or how about _God, how I've missed you, will you marry me?_

Her eyes cooled. "We wrapped that movie up a few days ago. I take it you wouldn't have come back if you'd known I was here?"

"I—no, I just…I was surprised to see you. You look really good. You've done well for yourself. I'm really proud of you."

She smiled and blushed, that lovely blush I was so afraid she would grow out of. "Walk me home, for old times' sake?"

I nodded and she turned toward Mike, who was still standing behind her with his hands shoved in his pockets and glaring at me.

"Thanks for the offer, Mike, but Edward's going to see me back."

I glowered at him as she hooked her arm through mine and led me away.

"Was he trying anything with you?"

"Would have beat him up for me if he had been?" She laughed at my expression. "Did you think I didn't know about that? It was fairly obvious when every single guy who tried to touch me ended up with a black eye or a broken nose. You weren't exactly subtle."

"I'm sorry. I never meant for you to know about any of that. I didn't want you exposed to that side of my life."

"I know. That was always the problem, wasn't it?"

I frowned. "What, that I wanted to protect you?"

"That you wanted to shelter me. Even from yourself."

I didn't reply, having no response to what she'd said. It was true that I'd wanted to protect her from the evils of the world, my own most of all. When I'd realized my failure in doing so I'd done the only thing I could do—I'd left. She was everything good and pure in the world. I wouldn't be responsible for ruining that. I still didn't regret my decision, no matter the pain and loss I'd suffered. Look at how well she'd done without me.

The rest of the short walk to her house was made in silence. I paused outside her doorstep, reluctant to say goodbye but unsure of what I could say to keep her. Bella gazed up at me, looking every bit as anxious and hesitant. Her eyes roamed over my face and then seemed to soften. Just as I had eight years ago I found myself longing to know what thoughts ran through her head. She held her hand out to me.

"Come on inside for a minute. I had something I was going to give you back you then. You may as well have it now."

I took her hand, struck by how small and delicate it still felt in mine, and followed her inside. I laughed at how the house was just the same as when I'd left. The furniture, the pictures on the walls, even the same curtains hung over the windows. The only thing missing was Bella's bookbag by the door and her books strewn across the table. As Bella went to rummage through the closet I stopped to examine a new picture on the end table. It was Charlie looking stiff and uncomfortable in a suit but infinitely proud standing next to Bella at her first movie premier. I would have been somewhere in that crowd behind her, although she couldn't have known it. She'd looked glorious that night—beautiful and glamorous and incredibly happy. It was one of the reasons I'd managed to keep myself from approaching her.

"Here it is."

I put the picture down and turned to see Bella stretched on her toes trying to pull a box off the top shelf. I immediately went up behind her and pulled it down for her, momentarily trapping her small form between the closet and myself. My eyes closed in excruciating bliss as the familiar scent of strawberries filled my nostrils.

"Edward?"

Her eyes were laughing up at me and I realized I was still standing there with my arm extended above my head and my body crowding hers. With a bashful grin I stepped back. I glanced at the shoebox in my hands.

"What is this?"

My curiosity peaked as she looked at it rather nervously.

"Open it. I was going to give it to after prom but…well, you know. I didn't see you again."

I swallowed and nodded, slowly lifting the lid off the box. Nestled inside was a copy of _Wuthering Heights_. I stared at it incomprehensively. She couldn't have given me a more woefully appropriate gift. She was watching my reaction carefully, or rather my lack of reaction.

"You never liked when I called you Heathcliff, did you?" she asked sadly, shaking her head. "You always cringed just like that."

My eyes snapped to hers. "I didn't like being related to him. He was hard and cruel and selfish. He let his love for Catherine destroy not only himself but her as well and everyone around them. I never understood your fascination with this book—it's nothing but a story of corruption and greed if you ask me—but I absolutely hated that you saw me like that. Even if it was true."

"What? That's not at all how I saw you! I called you Heathcliff because he was a troubled soul who no one ever really understood. No one really knew him except Catherine, the one person he ever really opened up to. And I liked the book because it's both tragic and honest. It's a story about real people with real flaws who made real mistakes, and in spite of all that they died still loving each other. No matter how they lashed out and hurt each other they couldn't kill the love…."

She drew in a deep and looked me steadily in the eye. "When I called you Heathcliff I was saying I loved you. It always hurt to watch you cringe away from that."

I stared at her unable, unwilling, to believe. "Bella, I…I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Would it have made a difference if you had? Every time I tried to get close to you, you pushed me away. I thought you didn't want me, and it killed me."

My heart clenched at her words. How could she have thought that? I'd worshipped her. I couldn't let her think I didn't want her.

"Of course I wanted you, Bella, but I didn't deserve you. I had no right to want you, can't you see? I wasn't good for you, you deserved better."

Clearly this was the wrong thing to say as Bella's eyes lit with anger and she approached me, slapping her hands against my chest and shoving me backwards.

"That's just it, Edward! You always put me up on this damn pedestal, like I was so fucking perfect! I wasn't perfect. I'm human just like you, and with all your stupid nobility and self-sacrifice you're nothing but a coward the same as me!"

"Bella, you're not—"

She snorted. "I'm the biggest form of coward. It took almost a whole bottle of vodka for me to come on to you that night. I all but threw myself at you and you just took me home and then disappeared from my life. It was the cruelest form of rejection but I figured I had my answer. For months after you left I was a shell of a person, you know. I crawled into myself and just tried to hide from the pain. I went to California just to get away from the memories."

I blanched, reeling in the shock of the things she was saying to me. I knew my leaving would upset her but in never in my life would I have believed…All I'd ever wanted to do was protect her and it seemed in the end I had done more damage to her than any other. She was standing there, her chest heaving with the exertion of her anger and tears rolling from her eyes. Tears that I had put there. How could I have done this to her? How was it possible that she had loved me and I'd never known? How could I ever make this right? My hand trembled as I went to raise it to her face and then let it fall uselessly to my side. I had to tell her—everything I felt then, everything I still felt. I had to explain it to her. She deserved the truth.

"It's not what you think, Bella. I didn't leave because I didn't want you. How could you ever think that? I left because I loved you so much. I _had_ to leave, it was the only way—"

She wiped her tears angrily away with the back of her hand and turned away from me, wrapping her arms protectively around herself.

"I know why you left, Edward. Charlie told me about the whole James thing. But that doesn't make it okay. I didn't know then. I thought it was just that easy for you to leave, and it nearly destroyed me. You should have told me, we could have dealt with James together. But I get why you did it. That's just the way you think, the kind of thing you would do.

"When I found out about James it was the first ray of hope I'd had in over a year. That hope was the only thing that gave me the strength to start living my life again. I kept hoping and waiting for you to come back. I looked for you at every premier and every time I came back here was in search of you. But you never came back."

She turned and looked at me with such heartbreak in her eyes that it nearly broke me.

"Why didn't you ever come back?"

I crossed to her, standing close enough to feel her warmth but still not touching her. I wasn't sure yet if she welcome my touch and I didn't think I could get the words out if she rejected me. I was about to expose all of my doubts and fears and vulnerabilities to her. For the first time we were being completely open and honest with each other and even if she no longer welcomed my feelings she had a right to know of them.

"I didn't come back because I thought you were better off without me. Every time I saw you, which believe me was frequently, you seemed so happy. You'd made such a huge success of your life without me. It was obvious you'd moved on. I didn't think you would welcome me back."

"Moved on?" She laughed, a hard bitter laugh that should never have sounded from those lips. "Edward, I was a success because of you. Every script I wrote was inspired by you. Every male lead I wrote _was_ you. You're the reason my movies are such a success. The entire world is in love with you. How can you think you're not worthy?"

My heart pounded as, for the first time since I'd ever spoken to her, I allowed myself to hope. I grabbed her hands and held them tightly in mine. I hadn't been worthy of her before, hell I still wasn't, but it seemed she wanted me anyway. How could I deny her? I 'd made so many mistakes in the past, hurt her in ways I'd never meant to or even thought possible. I could never truly atone for them but I prayed that she'd let me try.

"Bella. I'll never be able to say I'm sorry enough, but you need to know that I love you—unequivocally, unconditionally, irrevocably love you. I think I've loved you since that first day in biology. I never, ever, wanted to hurt you. Everything I did was with your welfare in mind. I don't have any right to ask for your forgiveness for hurting you like that, but I'll do anything to try to make it up to you. Just tell me what you want and it's yours. Even if it means walking out that door and leaving you to your life."

Her eyes searched mine for several of the longest seconds of my life. "Could you really walk away again?"

My heart stopped. For one moment it cramped and literally stopped beating in my chest. Did that mean she wanted me to go? Had I been wrong to believe she'd meant that she still had feelings for me? Maybe she couldn't forgive me. I could hardly blame her. Somehow I managed to swallow past the constriction in my throat.

"I honestly don't know how I did it the first time but…if you want me to go…" I shook my head. No, I couldn't have been that wrong. "If you want me to go then you're going to have to be damn convincing because there is no way in hell I'm leaving this time unless I'm absolutely sure it's what you want."

I grabbed her by the shoulders, praying my grip wasn't too tight because there was no way I could convince my hands to loosen up, and pulled her in close until our noses were almost touching.

"I'm not going to let you go without a fight this time, Bella. You've haunted me for the past eight years. I haven't been able to go a single day without thinking about you, a single night without dreaming of you, and I'm not going back into that hell if there's even the slightest chance that you might love me. I love so goddamned much!"

She smiled. A slow, brilliant, achingly beautiful smile.

"Prove it," she whispered.

I frowned. "Pro…how? Anything, I'll do—"

She grabbed both sides of my head and pulled me down until our lips were touching, our mouths suddenly moving over each other with a ravenous hunger that had had eight years to build and was now exploding over us both. Her hands were tugging painfully on my hair, but it was a pain I welcomed and craved more of. My own hands swept down her back, over the slight curve of her ass, and then I was gripping the tops of her thighs, pulling up on her legs until they were wrapped around my waist. I stumbled forward the few steps until her back hit the wall and her center was pressed against me. I may have growled a little at the heat that was already calling out to me there.

I palmed her ass as my lips moved across the line of her jaw to the tender patch of flesh just behind her ear. She threw her head back, hitting the wall with a thud. I used my weight to pin her body in place and lifted one hand until it was cradling her head, protecting her from injury. The graceful arc of her neck was now exposed to me and I followed it with my mouth, nipping or sucking on the skin along the way. By the time I reached her collarbone she was moaning and writhing her hips erotically against me. Her hands moved from my hair to grab fistfuls of my shirt and tug at the material. With a grunt I pulled her away from the wall and walked her into the kitchen where I could set her down on the edge of the table. I swiftly pulled my shirt over my head and went back to attacking her mouth with mine.

Bella's legs locked around my waist once more and she used her heels to pull me in tight against her. Her hips rocked against me with a rhythm that was almost my undoing. My hand slipped under her shirt and I moaned my appreciation in finding no bra separating the perfection of her breast from my touch. She fit into the palm of my hand as if she'd been shaped for my touch alone. She went wild the moment I dragged my fingers across her nipple, arching violently back from me and whipping off her shirt before once again grabbing the sides of my head and yanking me down to her chest. She didn't have to tell me twice. I circled the hard point with my tongue, then drew it into my mouth and sucked hard even as I wedged my hand between our bodies and worked open the fastening of her pants. My fingers slipped inside her panties and found her heat.

God, she was wet!

"Oh fuck, Edward, touch me!"

I growled against her breast and switched my attention to the other nipple as I slid one finger inside her. Her hips bucked against me, her breathing growing fast and raspy. I added another finger and pressed my thumb against her clit. Her hand clutched the back of my head as she moved harder against my hand, and then suddenly she was shouting and clenching around my fingers.

"Jesus Christ and heaven almighty. Those hands should be outlawed."

She bowed forward and attacked the buckle of my belt, making quick work of the button fly and then shoving down on my jeans.

"Off, I need these off," she mumbled around my lips.

I quickly toed my shoes off and then kicked off the jeans. I hooked my fingers into her waistband and pulled both her pants and her underwear off in one smooth motion. I slowed down for a minute, taking one small foot in both my hands and pressing my lips against the arch. I smiled as her toes curled in reflex. I trailed my lips slowly up her calf and paused to pay special attention the back of her knee. Her fingers curled in my hair, tugging my head higher. My lips skimmed up the inside of her thigh as I traced my fingers up the outside to her hip. I skipped past where she wanted me the most and slowly made my way up her stomach to her sternum. I lost some of my momentum when her hand reached down and gripped my cock, stroking my firmly. She leaned forward and breathed hotly into my ear.

"I need you, Edward. I need to feel you inside me."

She licked my ear and sucked my earlobe into her mouth. My breath hissed out and my control snapped. I wrapped her hair around my fist, pulled her head back, licked my way up her neck and nipped her chin as I brought the head of my cock to her hot entrance.

"Is this what you want, Bella?"

"Oh, God yes."

"Be sure because I can't let you go after this. Once your mine I won't let you go."

Her hands clutched my neck. "Then don't. Don't ever let me go."

My hands flexed on her hips and I pulled her toward me, pushing forward at the same time. Holy shit she was so tight! Fuck, this wasn't going to last long. I tried to go slow and draw it out but she was having none of that. She locked her ankles behind my back and began rocking furiously against me. I cupped her ass for extra leverage and started pounding. I almost worried that I might be hurting her but her head had fallen back and she was moaning with abandon. I felt the tightening start in my balls and knew I wouldn't last much longer. I shifted her hips to adjust my angle and then reached down between us to press against her clit in time with my thrusts. Within seconds she was pulsing around me and I lost it completely. With one last thrust and a hoarse cry I was done. Bella collapsed back onto the table and I leaned over her on shaking arms, panting harshly. She smiled weakly and raised an arm to press her hand against my cheek.

"I love you, Edward. I've always loved you. Stay with me?"

I leaned down to nuzzle her neck, my chest filled with a joy I never knew I could feel.

"Always, Bella. You'll never get rid me of me now. I love you so much."

Her grin widened. "Prove it."

With a laugh I scooped her up, carried her upstairs, and proceeded to do just that.


End file.
